


Blood Drips Down

by Venticelli



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Freak Show
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Knives, Not really a spoiler at this point..., Stabbing, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:23:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3927976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venticelli/pseuds/Venticelli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief look at Twisty's thoughts when Mordrake claimed him as part of his troupe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Drips Down

The clown could hardly believe what was happening. This whole evening had been…well, it had been an experience, and now, there was a blade in his chest and pain clouding his mind. He knew what was going on but only just faintly, an old story he’d heard others talking about years ago, but the details would not come to mind as he was filled with both panic and an eerie calm as he felt the world starting to fade away. For a moment he thought to reach out his hands and stop all this maybe push this strange two-faced man away, but he found that he could not move. Or perhaps, he found that he did not _want_ to move.

Wasn’t this what he had prayed so hard for before when he’d felt the cold of his gun in his mouth and tasted the metal on his tongue?  
  
It was the memory of that day caused tears to well up in his eyes and not the pain that he felt with each new stab of the blade into his body. Yes, this was what he’d wanted all along, beyond his need to make people happy and to become whole again he was simply tired and run down and didn’t want to fight anymore. He was tired, and he was lonely, and maybe, just maybe if he closed his eyes it would be over before he knew it. And so, as he felt life slipping through his fingers, the clown made no effort to cling to it. All he could do was look at the man who wielded the blade and hope that his gratitude could be felt for he could not think of any words.  
  
And then he went down, onto his knees first as it all dropped away. The knew holes in his chest no longer hurt anymore, and he could see nothing but himself, the man, and a sea of inky blackness around him. It was like that moment before falling asleep, and the darkness seemed to expand and contract around him as he stared into the nothingness. And yet, he was not scared and could not find fear anywhere in his heart. Where pain and confusion had been not even a moment ago was a sort of euphoria that did not leave him until his face hit the ground. It felt like grass against his cheek, but he saw nothing. It wasn't a blissful nothingness, just pure abyss, but even though his eyes saw nothing, and his ears were ringing there were other senses that clung more fiercely to the physical world, but they were quickly losing their grip.

The scent of his own blood mingled with the comforting smell of earth in his nose for but a half of a second before the nothingness swallowed him up, and maybe he even felt himself smiling.


End file.
